Hook: Last Grand Adventure
by Emerald Disaster
Summary: James Hook: hell-forged brigand, infamous leader, archnemesis of Peter Pan- and now, by all accounts and measures, a dead man. Yet, just when the great pirate accepts this fate, the depths of Neverland present a new idea of what that means. Explores identity crisis & reconstruction, depression, suicide, trauma, & healing through those. May explore romance. Dedicated to Skirtzzz.


_Current image "Wandering After Will-O'-The-Wisp" by Flickr user garlandcanon. Used under specified Creative Commons licenses. If you wish to view it yourself, please go to the Flickr website and add_ _/photos/garlandcannon/5416798747/ to the url._

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"Don't try to stop me, Smee."

The murmur drowns amongst the crashing waves below, while the cry of gulls mock him. The wind whips at his tired face and tears through his haggard black curls. His long nose burns with the odor of salt and sweat. A stained ivory shirt and torn black breeches cling to his stiff form. He twists on his marred red-heels, casting his bloodshot eyes to the forest behind him. He finds only lonely trees.

No, Smee would not save him this time. To all of Pirate Town, the 'Great Captain Hook' is a ghost. After his defeat at the hands of Pan, and subsequently being devoured by a monstrous corpse, his one faithful ally - sitting upon his velvet throne - denied him living. Never before had words cut so deep as those curses and banishing prayers that chased him into the night.

A smirk lifts a curl of his mustache- how could he blame Smee, though? Such a promotion opportunity rarely presents itself; a smart man should seize such a chance. And while he would never describe his former first mate as 'cunning', Smee's manipulate move proves he is a pirate after Hook's own black heart.

A heavy sigh racks his body, and he turns back to the cliff's edge. Upon the horizon, a new dawn burns the cloak of night, reds and golds tearing at the greys and blues. Below, the sea churns with black and white. He glances down at himself. His body, no longer protected from this world by lush fabrics and gold applique, feels flawed beneath the salted linen. He drags a torn velvet gloves across his face, then pulls his shoulders back.

"Well… the last great adventure is mine."

Setting his chin up, he strides across the sun-bleached rock to meet the descent.

The last adventure feels lumpy and lukewarm.

Spitting sand out of his mouth, Hook rolls over and blinks his eyes. Blurs of black and blue sharpen into turquoise reflections on a cavern ceiling. He tries to push himself up, but a mass of dead kelp weighs him down. Snarling, he jerks and tears at the knotted mess to free himself.

Abruptly, a groan rolls through the cave. He freezes. His eyes dart across the dark green mass as his breathing slows. A twitch to his left draw his attention to a large heap of a seaweed nearby; he watches as it rises, falls and shudders. Narrowing his gaze, he rips away the remaining kelp and rises to his feet. The privateer, brandishing his hook, edges carefully towards the shifting pile.

"Show yourself, you eldritch cur!" he shouts.

A spray of sand sharply answers him. He stumbles back, guarding his face, as the mass of dried kelp shakes and bursts with a massive tail. The scaly limb sways through the dank air before plummeting back to the gritty floor. Catching his breath, he raises his guard again- only for it to slump. Sprawling out before him is no monster of exhilarating peril or creature worthy of grand battle. Instead, a mess of long, rose hair and pale jade scales lies face-down in the sand.

"Eugh…" he chuffs, "a mermaid…"

A sand-dusted ear pulls back amongst the pink strands; pulling her arms forward, the seaborn pushes her torso up and casts two tired tourmaline eyes at him. Sand cakes her face, covering her tawny face with beige bristles.

Rubbing his temple, he sighs, "Now that you have awoken from your stupor, take your leave."

She cocks a dark brow and squints at him- "Hmm?"

"Go. Away." He adds a flutter of his fingers for emphasis.

But the mermaid remains. She stares back up at him, dull annoyance smearing her sandy visage, before she glances nonchalantly about. With a dry cough, she muses, "So you can make your daring escape?"

"I do not need to explain myself to a worm such as yourself!" he hisses, brandishing his steel grip. "Leave before I reconsider my willingness to sully my presence with your corpse!"

Her expression sharply shifts, a blend of fear, shock and confusion contorting her face. She pulls back and, lifting a timid finger, whispers, "You're… you're Hook…!"

His infamous grin cracks across his face as the hushed words slip through the air. It fades quickly, however, and he coldly states, "Indeed, I am. And if you dare stay a moment longer, I will drag your screaming, bloody form down to the depths with me…!"

The maid rolls frantically over and skids to the cavern's lip; a moment more, and she disappears beneath the black water, the lap of water her only trace. Dropping to the damp stone, the man drags his hand over his face and blows out a heavy sigh.

"Beware the pressure."

His auburn glare jerks back up. Just above the glassy surface, tourmaline eyes stare hesitantly back.

"What?" he gruffs.

Her head smoothly rises up, her eyes considering him with a strange, unfamiliar worry. "When you go down to the depths," she replies, "the pressure builds. If you're not careful, it will twist and crush you. "

He snorts before sneering, "Thank you for that pearl of wisdom." The former captain pushes back and leans against the cold wall, then adds under his breath, "My 'adventure' is much more complicated than your fish-brain can comprehend…"

A soft slosh of water tugs at his ear; the crunch of sand follows, and to his chagrin, the maid props herself back upon the shore. With one cheek in her palm, she brandishes her challenge: "Try me."

Wiping his torn glove across his face, he counters, "And for what reasons should I bother? Should I acquiesce because of your new-found, yet idiotic courage? Or perhaps you have misguided hopes in changing my black heart? Or simply to fulfill your idle cod-belly curiosity?"

She tilts her head to one shoulder for a time. Her lids draw down slightly as she studies him, her pupils flexing with inhuman control. Then, with a toss of her head, she parries: "It's complicated."

Hook stares at her flatly for a time. Then, with a heavy sigh, he replies, "Clever, Pearl. Clever." Throwing up his arms in defeat, he collects himself and begins, "Very well- you shall have the honor of bearing witness to the last testaments of Captain James Hook.

"Throughout the expanse of Neverland memory, only one man has inspired ambition, admiration, and absolute terror. One man that brought depth to 'no mercy' by fueling the fires of war across land and water. One man that carved his mark into the wretched man-child known as Pan. One man that slew the monstrous crocodile born of nightmares. One man that made even John Silver's skin crawl. One man, forged in the same hellfires as Blackbeard. One man bold enough to cross into the other world…!"

His voice falters. He wipes his hand across his brow, then clears his throat. His voice, however, continues to struggle: "One man who fell in honorable battle. One man who… who clawed his way out of the undead beast's belly. One man so…" A grin cracks upon his face. "So unbelievable, they... he thought I was... a ghost… a curse… to be sent away…"

He re-squares his shoulders and lifts his chin, drawing a deep breath. "One man that is the legend known as Captain James Hook. And as to not sully this esteemed element of Neverland history with further disappointment or failing body, I have decided that my life is over."

The Captain draws another slow inhale before settling his gaze upon her. A small but pleased smile lifts his curled mustache- "Well?"

The maid stares back at him, wide-eyed, mouth open, and nose wrinkled. His own expression sours, and he waves his hand in front of her face.

The sudden snag of his fingers catches him off guard. His brow knots uncomfortably as her eyes dart about his face. Wetting her lips, she questions hesitantly, "You… you mentioned an 'other world'?"

"Is that all you heard?" he exasperates.

"No, no, no, no…" she draws back, releasing his hand and rubbing her own head. The young siren twists upon her seat, tangling herself in her trussells, before blowing out a sigh: "It's not over."

The Captain, yanking his hand away, sharply asks, "And what gives you, of all creatures, the right to determine that?!"

"Because **I** listened!" she snaps back.

His retort catches in his throat. His grimace wavers as she bears down with her own hooked-lip snarl. He stiffly shifts his shoulders, her own hiked up defensively beneath her cascading mane, and he manages one word: "Explain."

Squinting at him for a moment, the siren draws back. She draws a deep breath and then answers: "It's- your life is not over because, from what I heard, there's unfinished business."

His brow furrows, but he leans forward- "Go on."

"Well…" she fumbles as her confidence wavers. Her teeth catch on her lip before she replies, "You said they labeled you a ghost and a curse. It would be a shame if the infamous, 'hellfire-forged' Hook _didn't_ fulfill those terrifying expectations…"

Her words tease a fresh smirk beneath his mustache. "A fair point, maid," he muses whilst touching his hook to his temple. "But, if I were to humor myself with such obligations and meet them, just what would _you_ gain?"

The mermaid sways upon her forearms, her tourmaline eyes tracing the swirling light above.

"Oh… just having a little fun."


End file.
